~ Because demented people need love, too.

Bad Art

Did you know that there’s a Museum of Bad Art (MOBA)? No really, there is. And it’s aaawwwwwsommmme (say that last word nice and high – and by high, I mean raise your voice an octave, not smoke a lot of pot, though you could do that, too, if you live in CO or OR. Might make the art look better). Go here and peruse: http://www.museumofbadart.org/ Go ahead, take your time. I’ll wait. Be sure to read the descriptions under the art. I have a T-shirt of “Sunday on the Pot With George.” I also have several of the postcards and the book. It’s also a possibility that I have a slight obsession, but again this stuff is AWESOME. Oh, and I have a picture of me wearing the shirt to a lunch with a bunch of plein air artists, and in the picture they’re all staring at the shirt, which means it looks like they’re all staring at my boobs. I was younger and my boobs were perkier back then, so I guess that’s okay and I won’t blame them for it.

I kind of want to submit some of my early works, but am intimidated by the evaluation process, in which: “All additions to the permanent collection are at the sole discretion of our expert curating staff. Curators are entrusted with the solemn responsibility of maintaining the museum’s low standards. They typically reject 80% to 90% of all works submitted.” I don’t know if I could handle that kind of rejection. I had watched a bunch of Bob Ross shows on TV when I was about 10 years old, and this is what I made based off of what I saw. Floating trees, anyone?